Sweet Home, Hillwood
by ChickenGoddess
Summary: When Helga left Hillwood, she thought it was forever. Now three years later she gets a proposal from her CEO boyfriend, and fashion designer Helga Pataki has to tie up some loose ends back home... and she's about to discover how much she left behind.
1. Dreaming of Mistakes we Made

A/N: This story came from seeing the previews for "Sweet Home, Alabama" one too many times.  Since my last chapter fic worked, I figured I'd experiment with this.  Let me know what you think because this story is for YOUR enjoyment.  

Disclaimer: Would I be writing a fanfiction if I owned HA?  I think not.

**Sweet Home, Hillwood**

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**Prologue: **

**Dreaming of Mistakes we Made**

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She was running as fast as she could, gigging uncontrollably as she trailed behind the boy who held her hand, as if clinging to it for dear life.  It was what she had dreamed of for so long… she couldn't help but feel giddy at a time like this.  The cool evening air kissed her face as she ran against the wind, wherever he was leading her.  Eventually they came to a stop where she paused only briefly to catch her breath.  She threw off her shoes, feeling the smooth white sand beneath her feet.  He had taken her all the way to the only lake in the city with actual sand.  God only knew how far they had run from the bus stop that had taken them to this part of town.

"Well?" He asked.

"It's beautiful!" She replied, her blond hair whipping in the wind.

"I knew you'd like it." He said, taking her hand.

"Why'd you do this for me?" She asked as he led her closer to where the small waves lapped against the shore.  There was a rock that stood much like a pilling that they managed to climb onto so the water crashed beneath them.

"Simple reason." He said.

"Why's that?" She asked.

"I love you." He replied.

She smiled, that giddy grin she had worn the whole way here.  "I love you too."

He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips.  This had not been their first and most certainly not their last. "Promise me something." He said.

"Anything."

"Promise me that when we grow up, we'll get married." He said seriously.

She smiled again. "I promise."

He took her hand and together they watched the stars as the water lapped quietly beneath them.

Slowly, she woke from the dream- well, flashback with a sigh.  That was one promise she knew now that she should have broken, but that part of her life was over and thanks be to God for that.  Mistakes were to be learned from and never repeated.  The clock on her nightstand read 5:30am.  She slowly threw off the cotton sheets and lush down comforter as she stepped out of bed.  Technically she had a half hour of sleep left before she needed to get ready, but all traces of sleep were gone from her body.  Her satin pink pajamas clung to her slender figure as she stood, the crinkle of static electricity sounding as she pulled them from her skin, again fitting loosely.  She stepped into her matching slippers and entered her black and white marble bathroom where she ran the shower and attempted to clear her mind of any memory from the dream.

_"Look around, Helga."_ She told herself.  She saw a marble bathroom, complete with exquisite fixtures, a lush white bedroom, small but perfect kitchen and a luxurious living room complete with black leather couches and an expensive entertainment center.  All of this inside her custom penthouse suite.  _"This is what you want."_

This confirmed, she stripped and stepped into the shower, confident in her lifestyle.  Who wouldn't be if you were the top fashion designer in the city?  A smile crossed her lips as she thought back to the days of PS118.  _"Let's talk fashion _now_ Miss Rhonda Wellington Lloyd."_

A/N: There's the beginning.  More on the way!


	2. New Life for a New Girl

**Sweet Home, Hillwood**

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**Chapter 1:**

**New Life for a New Girl**

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"Hello Miss Pataki." Her personal secretary greeted cheerily from behind an oak furnished desk. "Good morning."

"Hey Lorraine.  Everything's been prepared for tonight, I trust." 

"Of course it has!  The models are already in makeup and prep, and the set arrived this morning.  It's being assembled as we speak."

"Good. I'll have a look for myself this afternoon." She replied, walking into her office.  

She reclined in the leather chair with a sigh.  Though she had her worries, she was certain that tonight's show would go off without a hitch.   Her shows always did.  She rested her feet on her desk and slipped out of her pink high heels.  He office was white with her trademark color carpeting.  Her desk was a modern-looking piece, white sides and a clear glass top on which sat stacks of paper and such.  Framed newspaper articles screaming of her success and pictures from various shows littered the white walls.  She had started here, working at the bottom of the chain and now- well now this was her empire.  _Chic_ was her pseudonym in the fashion world.  Sure, _Betsey Johnson_, and _Louis Vitton_ used their names for the brand, but she could not see herself selling clothes called _Helga Pataki._  Something about that wasn't right.  After all, she pulled in more money than both designer names combined.  Contented, she smiled and got to work.

There came a knock at her door.  Helga put her pen down and lowered the volume on her state of the art, and rather pricey _Bose_ stereo.

"Come in."

Lorraine twisted the knob and stood in her boss's doorway.  "Kevin on line one." She smiled.

Helga's face lit up.  "Put him through."

"Sure." She smiled, closing the door behind her.

In a few seconds, the red light denoting a call on line one began to flash.  Quickly, she held the phone to her ear. "Hey!"

"Hey Sweetie."

"What's up?  Why are you calling me at work?"

"Can't I miss my favorite girl in the world?" He asked.

Helga smiled.  "I guess you're entitled to that."

"Are you busy tomorrow night?"

"Kevin, you know the night after a show I take off." She reminded.

"Good.  I'll pick you up at six.  Make sure you're hungry because we're going to _Antonio's_." He said.

"What's the occasion?" She asked, knowing full well that _Antonio's_ was the most expensive restaurant in the city.

"You." He replied.

"Aren't we the charmer?"

He laughed.  "Don't you know it?"

"I miss you." She said.

"I miss you too.  But I'll see you tonight."

"Hopefully it goes well." She replied.

"I believe in you, baby."

"That offers some consolation."

"…I have to go.  Roussini is on line two.  Bitching and moaning as usual."

"Fun." She replied sarcastically.  "See you later."

"Love you."

"Love you too." 

She placed the phone back in the receiver and smiled.  She was a lucky girl.  She has been dating Kevin for a year and a half now, probably the best year and a half of her life.  Two years of living in the city alone, she noticed him at one of her shows and did something she hadn't done since: she flirted.  He took to her immediately.  Kevin was tall, dark and handsome- not to mention a well off CEO.  Money was no longer a problem of any sort, and she liked it that way.  She had a _career_ not just a _job_.  The difference between the two was that career was one's life's work.  Job was defined as a position in which one is employed.  

Her friends were not the small urban city type, but those who lived in mansions on 150 acres of land, married to wealthy men.  None of them were all that bright, but they knew how to spend money, which she had, and they knew how to have a good time, which she wanted.  Yep, her, Paisley, Allison, Denise and Rita were "the girls".  Paisley Donovan, whose real name was Ann, had changed her name in collage, but told no one of this.  As far as the rest of "the girls" knew, she had been and would always be "Paisley".  She was a tiny little blond thing, married to the mayor of the city, who was legally old enough to be her father.  Allison Galesburg was blond too, but a darker shade than Paisley.  She was tall and had an ear for gossip, maybe a blond version of Princess Rhonda Lloyd.  She had married a wealthy accountant, whom she rarely saw.  Everyone knew they were both unfaithful.  Denise Adams was the epitome of dumb blonds.  She couldn't remember anything unless you taped it to her forehead.  She was fun to be with, and had enough money to go around.  Her husband struck it lucky in the stock market.  As for Rita, she was the brunette of the bunch.  Not that hair color was all that she differed in.  She married her husband prior to his striking it rich… something to do with discovering some new treatment for neurosurgery.  She wasn't a scholar, or even a collage graduate, but she was their voice of reason.  Out of all "the girls", Rita and Helga got along the best, which was not surprising when you weighed the other options.  They were all nice, but in such a high-class society, everyone was fake and to fit in, you had to be… just a little.  

Helga continued filling out shipping forms for various stores, filling orders and such.  She was very successful in marketing tactics.  She insisted on filling these out herself.  You wanted to make profit in this game, and she was an excellent player.

I hear the wind across the plain  
A sound so strong - that calls my name  
It's wild like the river - it's warm like the sun  
Ya it's here - this is where I belong

The radio interrupted her thoughts.  Bryan Adams going on about how he belonged on some windswept prairie.  He could have his goddamn prairie.  There was no fashion industry there.  As far as Helga G. Pataki was concerned, Bryan Adams could _have_ the whole damn thing for free.  He may belong in the prairie, but Helga belonged behind her desk at _Chic_ fashions.  Clicking off the radio, she set to work again.

A/N: there's the insight into Helga's new lifestyle… but is it perfect or just a fallacy?  Keep R&R'n to find out!


	3. The Way to Her Heart is Through the Litt...

**Sweet Home, Hillwood**

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**Chapter 2:**

**The Way To Her Heart is Through The Little Blue Box**

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Standing backstage in one of her custom designed dresses, Helga watched as the models strut one by one down the runway, wearing the ensamble she had created.  The set was assembled perfectly, a transparent plexi-glass stage and runway with sets of neon tubing flashing through it.  To separate the stage from the back, there was a black velvet curtain.  Her sets were as creative as her line itself.  

The show, as custom went perfectly according to plan.  To close the show, she stepped onto the runway after all the models had lined themselves up.  The thunderous roar of approval from the audience boomed in her ears louder than she had ever heard.  Smiling, she gently curtsied in her fuchsia cocktail length dress, lined in black lace.  The black material draped over the bright fuchsia, subduing it a little.  Her shoes were of the same pattern, black lace and all.  Her blond hair had been styled earlier that day to wave naturally with a lock draping over her eye. An orchid had been fastened in the right side of her hair, pulling it behind her ear.  The look was vaguely familiar… though she couldn't recall why.  

After some short interviews for several magazines, she had found Kevin waiting for her backstage. 

"Great show." He congratulated.

"Even better now." She replied.

"I got something for you… to celebrate the occasion." He said, handing her a long teal box with a white ribbon.

She opened the box with childlike excitement, discovering a diamond bracelet inside.  Her eyes grew wide as she lifted the piece and examined it.

"Thought you'd like it." He said, fastening it on her wrist.

In reply, she kissed him.

"Guess we know the way to your heart." He said.

"Guess so." She replied with a smile.

With that, they left.

"Thanks for everything." She said as she stepped out of his black BMW coupe convertible. 

"Just don't forget, six 'o clock tomorrow."

"I know, we're going to _Antonio's_." She finished.

"That's my girl.  Night, Helga."

"Goodnight, Kevin." She said, heading into her building.  

She took her shoes off in the elevator, desperately wishing to be in bed.  She was so tired… not to mention the fact that it was 3:47 in the morning.  She would be asleep soon enough, and then she'd be out with Kevin again.  She smiled as she thought of him. Their relationship had never been a sexual one… they had done nothing past second base, which was strange for an adult relationship.  She supposed that she had her chance… but that just didn't feel right.  She loved him, more than she thought possible, but she couldn't bring herself to sleep with him.  She didn't know why, much care to think about the answer.  Finally she felt the plush carpet beneath her sore feet that came with wearing platform high heels for 18 hours straight.  Not bothering to remove her makeup or brush her hair, she slipped into her satin pajamas, these white with pink trim, and collapsed into bed.  It felt so good to be off her feet and back in her own bed.  She rolled to her side and stared at the clock.  3:54.  The numbers started back.  Suddenly, she felt inspired and where once she would have climbed out of bed and typed it out on her computer, she merely shrugged it off and closed her eyes, the arms of blissful sleep embracing her tired body.

She awoke from well-deserved rest at 3:00pm.  11 hours of sleep had done her good and she felt well rested and ready for her date tonight.  Speaking of that, if she wanted to be ready in time she would have to begin now.  She ran the water and enjoyed a long hot shower before painting her face and throwing on another of her designer dresses.  

The doorbell rang at six o'clock sharp.  Kevin was very punctual, his years as a CEO probably accounting for that.  She opened the door and greeted him with a kiss before they took the elevator down to his BMW.

_Antonio's_ was a quiet, expensive Italian gourmet restaurant where only those of refined taste chose to eat.  It was not only a five-star restaurant, but was voted the best Italian restaurant in the entire United States of America.  Kevin had reserved a table and ordered the most expensive wine on the menu.  Helga had never experienced the more expensive brands until her rise to the top.  Truthfully, she wasn't all that fond of it.  Her favorite was Burgundy, even though it was one of the lesser expensive wines, that was all she needed.  Who was she kidding?  The more expensive, the better!

The waiter, carrying two platters approached the table.  He uncovered the silver platters and instead of food, there rested several velvet boxes, each containing a different diamond ring. 

Helga's breath caught in her throat.  "Oh my God."

"Which one would you like?" He asked, smiling.

After studding the plethora of diamonds, she chose the biggest rock of them all.

"Excellent selection." He said, taking the ring and Helga's hand.  "Will you marry me?"

"Oh my God…" She gasped as he slid the rock on her finger.  She admired the humongous stone, her mind completely numb.  Had she expected this?  Certainly not.  She hadn't wanted to marry… but Kevin made her so happy.  Did she _want_ to marry him?  He was rich and handsome… and in love with her.  She could have the ceremony she always dreamed of!  They could live in a huge 150-acre mansion.  He made her happy.  But there was one small problem.

"Kevin… I have to tell you something."

"What?"

"I…I…"

A/N: Cliffhanger!  Can I be any meaner? 


	4. Unexpected Occurances

**Sweet Home, Hillwood**

By: ChickenGoddess

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**Chapter 2:**

**Unexpected Occurances**

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"You're what?" he asked.

"I'm… married." She confessed.

His eyes bulged.  "I wasn't expecting that."

"I mean I'm not- but I still am- we never formally divorced." She stuttered.

"So he left you?" Kevin asked.

"No… yes…no… it doesn't matter.  I'll get papers drawn up and I'll go down there to get him to sign them.  Plus, I'll have to tell my family." She smiled.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes."

That night, she had called "the girls".  They had all been so enthused, even if Denise didn't remember Kevin's name she was thrilled nonetheless.  Rita was happy, but not like the other girls.

"Hey Rita!  Guess what?"

"What, Helga?"

"Kevin proposed!  I'm getting married!"

"Oh.  That's great!"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Helga.  I'm happy for you."

"You don't sound it."

"I just… are you _sure_ he's the one for you?"

"He's gorgeous and he's filthy rich!  What more could you ask for?!'

"You know what I mean.  Are you in love with him?"

Helga laughed.  "What's love got to do with it?"

Rita grew cross.  "You know, you're right.  Who cares if you're miserable for the rest of your life because- I forgot- money can _buy _happiness for you!"

For one strange instant, Helga was reminded of Phoebe Hyerdahl.  "I don't know if I love Kevin, you're right.  But I know that I've been happier this past year than I've ever been in my life.  I'm going back home for a few weeks, to tell the family and… tie up some loose ends.  The wedding is three months.  I'd like for you to be there."

"I'm sorry, Helga.  I want the best for you.  I don't want to see you like Allison." Rita said.

"I understand."

The conversation had ended there.  She wouldn't dwell on it, though.  In another three months she would be Mrs. Kevin Kensington and she had the ring to prove it.  She would see the lawyer in the morning and drive back down to Hillwood, the city she had blocked from her memory, the day after.  That dense thickhead husband of hers would sign the papers and everything would go off without a hitch.  Everything always did.

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A/N:  Next Chapter:  Helga goes to Hillwood and find some things never change.  Plus, you figure out who she's married to.  If for no other reason, read it for that.


	5. Facing what we Left Behind

**Sweet Home, Hillwood**

By: ChickenGoddess

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**Chapter 3:**

**Facing what we Left Behind**

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She had taken a first-class flight to the Hillwood Airport, and a Rent-A-Car from there.  Her custom designed luggage plied in the back seats of the Mercedes Bens she had managed to persuade the company into renting.  She rolled down the window and turned the radio on as she passed over distantly familiar roads.  A foreign smile passed over her lips… one of genuine happiness.  She knew not why, nor much cared where it had come from, only that it was there.  Soon enough she would be passing through the neighborhood that had been declared a historical landmark, thanks to her assistance.  She'd go several blocks further to the house where her good-for-nothing thickheaded husband still lived, get him to willingly sign the papers, then visit her parents.  She'd explain to Miriam and Bob about Kevin and the rock on her ring finger.  She might go visit Phoebe.  After all, they hadn't seen each other since she left the city.  Part of Helga missed her.  The part she tried to ignore.  This would probably be her last trip to Hillwood… the closure to the past and dawning of the future.  

She watched as the eyes of a new generation of children fixed on her expensive car, opening full in awe.  Helga smiled even grater, a different kind of smile than before.  _They've only seen these cars.  No one in Hillwood owns a Benz…_. She thought to herself as she past PS118 where she had spent so many years.  Whipping by the streets of the neighborhood landmark, she passed the boarding house where the boy she had once loved had resided.

Finally, she parked in the driveway of the small country-style house a few blocks down from the neighborhood.  Not a thing about it had changed.  On the porch still hung the suspended chair where they had rocked together so many nights.  The shutters were still the same navy blue she had picked and the house was still white as it was when they had painted it together.  The flowers were still being tended to because they were still alive, as she concluded.  It looked just as it had, proud and ageless.  Taking the manila envelope in hand, she approached the door and knocked.  For the first time, she felt a tinge of nervousness spark within her.  She forced it to subside until she heard footsteps approaching.  She quickly removed her sunglasses and the white door with the gold knocker opened.

His face expressed utter shock at first, and then a smile.  "Well… if it isn't the Devil in Pink."

"Get your football head over here and give me a divorce." She said.

The tall man dressed in blue jeans, a white t-shirt and red flannel shirt in the same print he had worn since PS118 stood in shock.  "Is that what you came here for?"

"It wasn't for vacation." She replied, standing firm.

"Why now?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.  "Why not three years ago?"

"Because I had to get back on my feet.  Being a 'Miss' in a big city is dangerous, Arnold." She lied.

"You never were a good liar." He smiled.

"Ok, well, here's the story.  My boyfriend proposed and I want to marry him.  Not you.  I gave you the house and everything.  Just sign the papers and we can both get on with our lives." She confessed.

"You're just one shock after another…next thing you'll tell me is we have a kid or something."

Helga smiled.  "You'll be relieved to know that's not the case."

"I can't sign these papers, Helga." He replied, his face falling.

"Why not?!"

"Because I can't!" he said, raising his voice.

"This marriage is OVER!  It's _been_ over for three years, Arnold!  Let's end it legally!" she tried.

"No it's NOT!" he replied.  "You don't run out on someone you pledge your life to for no reason!"

"This was YOUR fault, Arnold!" She shouted.

"I know.  My fault for LOVING YOU!"

"You know damn well what you did!"

"Maybe if you stopped running away from things we wouldn't be standing here!"

"That's IT!" She screamed.

"What are you gonna do?  Forge my name?" He asked, knowing he could get the better of her.

She looked frustrated in reply.

"That's what I thought.  I won't sign those papers until I know why."

"I already told you."

"No.  Why you left." He said.

"You're dumber that I remember, Football Head."

"I didn't forget where I came from!" he replied, shutting the door

 She stood in the doorway for another brief moment before shouting an obscenity loud enough for him to hear.  With a sigh she turned the ignition and drove toward her parents.  Things never went as planned in Hillwood.  She had almost forgotten that.

She knocked on the door of the Pataki house, and as custom, her less than sober mother answered the door.

"Hello?" She asked, dazed and confused.

"Miriam, it's me, Helga."

"Helga?"

"Your daughter."

"Oh… Helga!  Come in, sweetie.  Look B, it's Helga!" She announced.

"Did you pick up the paper on your way in, Olga?" his gruff voice asked.

"No _Bob_.  I cam to announce that I'm getting married."

"That's wonderful, honey!  But aren't you still married to that nice little blond boy… what's his name again?" Miriam replied.

"Arnold."

"That's it."

"I left three years ago, Miriam."

"That's where you've been… look at you, all dolled up like a princess!"

"I have my own clothing line.  _Chic_ fashions?" Helga tried.

Miriam gasped.  "That's _you_?!"

"Yes, mom." Helga sighed.

"Oh look B, Helga's a fashion designer!"

"Pipe down!"

"Look, I need to stay here for a while, just until I tie everything up back here.  Then I'll go back to the city and never bother you again."

"Did he give you a ring?" She asked.

Helga flashed the giant diamond on her finger and Miriam seemed to snap into sobriety. "Oh my God!"

Satisfied, Helga lugged her necessities into her old room where everything was just as she had left it.

Her room looked as if the fourth grade bully with pigtails and a unibrow would walk into it at any moment, pining over her football-headed obsession.  Instead, an older version of that girl laid on the bed, flipping through one of her old diaries, laughing at whatever entry she happened to see.  Had she been this obsessed?  Yes, she had.  Her verbiage was enough to make her laugh.  Who used words like that in the real world?  Writers, maybe, but not the normal Joe and certainly not Helga G. Pataki, soon to be Mrs. Helga G. Kensington.  She hated the way that sounded, but assumed that she could grow to like it.  After all, Kevin loved her and she felt the same way.  After she returned from this visit to the past things would be the way they should.  

With a sigh, she closed the pink diary and decided to go down to Slausen's, presuming it was still standing.  She really did want a milkshake.  She hadn't had one in three years… living in the city was a killer sometimes.

She sat alone at the counter with the swivel stools, recalling the time she had feigned blindness and forced Arnold to be her caretaker.  She laughed aloud remembering this.  Her and Phoebe came here often and sat at this very counter, discussing whatever popped into their heads.  Arnold took her here often as well.  They would share a triple thick chocolate shake with heavy whipped cream and a cherry.  He always let her have the cherry. 

Her shake was placed in front of her and she brushed those thoughts away.  Several minutes later, the door opened with the jingle of a bell and in walked Phoebe Hyerdahl Johansson.  Something was different about her.  Her face was very much the same and her glasses were not new… it was something else.

"Phoebe?  You're PREGNANT?!" She gasped.

Phoebe's head immediately focused on the source of this gasp and saw her childhood best friend and fashion designer, Helga Pataki sitting on the stool of Slausen's Ice Cream. "Helga?!" 

"Pheebs!" She cried with delight, embracing her friend.

"Helga… watch the baby!" She said.

"Oh my God…. Sorry!" She replied sheepishly.

"Look at you!  You're a designer!  You can _afford_ the clothes you make!": She aid, observing.

"Look at you!  You're pregnant!" Helga said, beaming with delight.

"Four months along now.  She's due in November." Phoebe said proudly.

"It's a she?"

"We don't really know… but we both think she's a girl."

"That's so great, Phoebe!  How's Gerald?"

"Wonderful!  He's gonna make a great dad." She replied.

"I agree." She said.

"How are things with Arnold?  Are you two getting back together?" She asked.

"No.  I came back to divorce him." She admitted.

Phoebe gasped in shock.  "Why?"

"Because." She said, revealing the rock Kevin had given her.  "He's waiting for me in the city."

"It's an amazing stone, Helga.  He makes you happy?"

"Yes."

Phoebe glanced at the clock.  "I have a doctor appointment for the baby… perhaps you would accompany me there?" 

"Sure, Pheebs."

"Tell me about your new life, Helga!" Phoebe requested as they began walking.

"It's busier than Hillwood, a lot bigger and cluttered too.  I own a penthouse suite and my company fairs well….  Kevin is a CEO, a really sweet guy.  We've been dating for a year and a half.  It's so much different there."

"Do you ever… miss Hillwood?" Phoebe ventured to ask.

"Sometimes." She admitted.

They reached the building where Phoebe would go it alone.  "Helga… there's much I've been wanting to ask you.  Do you think we could talk sometime?"

"I'll be down here at least a week.  I forgot how stubborn old Football head is." She smiled.

"Are you staying with your parents?"

"Yes."

"I'll call you.  I think we need to talk."

"Me too, Pheebs.  Me too." She said.

The two friends embraced before walking in opposite directions.  He hadn't known how much she truly missed Phoebe until now.  She was nothing like "the girls" in the city.  She was smart and pretty and… pregnant.  Phoebe always wanted a family.  Helga could recall wanting the same.  Kevin didn't want children.  He said they were too much responsibility and affection.  He said he wanted to be able to give his affection and attention to the woman in his life.  He said that she deserved more than a split share.  Helga frowned, placing a hand on her flat stomach.  "The girls" said that getting pregnant made you ugly… that none of them wanted to loose their figure.  Helga turned into the nearest alley and leaned against the wall.  She did something she had not done since that fateful night, three years ago.  Hand on her perfectly toned stomach, Helga Pataki cried, and she didn't know why.

Hello?  Who's crying?" A familiar voice called.

'Please don't let him see me like this…' she begged the heavens above through tears that would not cease. 

"Helga?!  What's wrong?  Is it me?" he asked upon realizing it was Helga and she was crying.  She seldom cried.

"I'm fine, Arnold." She replied.

He smiled.  "If that's not the biggest lie you've ever told."

"I hate that about you." She said.

He handed her a Kleenex, uncomprehending.

"The way you know me."

He nodded with a smile.  "I knew you basically my whole life."

"You always knew." She echoed her last statement.

"Not as much as you'd think." He replied.

"Did you know Phoebe was pregnant?" She asked.

Arnold smiled.  "You found out?"

"I ran into her at Slausen's."

"Gerald was so excited.  He went out and bought baby food when Phoebe told him."

Helga laughed.  Somehow, she could see him doing so perfectly in her mind's eye.

"It's amazing how much can happen once you go away." She said.

"You could have kept in touch." He reminded, looking at the ground.

"…I know." Was all she could reply.

  "I shouldn't be bringing this up." He said.  "If you want to catch up with the gang though, the Cheese Festival is Friday.  They'll all be there… most of them anyway."

"Thanks." She said, for lack of better.

"You headed home?" he asked, noticing that she had stopped crying.

"I guess so."

"I'll walk you, if you want." He offered.

"Ok." She replied.  She didn't know why, but something inside her answered for her.  

He was surprised that she had accepted his offer, but accompanied her nonetheless.  They _were_ still married.  He still cared about her.  People would talk of her changing, how much better she was now that she had left Hillwood for a career.  He could still see that frightened little girl, wandering lost in her eyes.  With all the years they had been together she had lost that look.  Now it was screaming at him.  He could tell everyone, even herself that she was happy in the city, but that little girl in her eyes would scream in protest, though no one would hear her voice.  She was as beautiful and sexy as he remembered.  Her attitude was different and there was a harsh note in her voice that hadn't existed before.  Still, buried beneath the designer clothes and expensive makeup, she was the Helga G. Pataki he knew… and loved.

They reached her stoop and said goodbye, all traces of their prior argument gone from their hearts.  

"Oh, Helga." He began.

She looked back at him.

"If you still want it… your manuscript is still at home.  I held onto it." He said.

She remembered what he meant.  "I stopped writing…" She replied, almost shamefully.

"You had a real gift, Helga.  I've read your work over and over and I still love it.  Maybe you still have it in you." He tried.

"Ever the optimist, aren't we?"

He smiled. "Someone has to be."

"Goodnight, Arnold."

"Night, Helga."

And with that, she stepped inside, a huge smile on her face.  If asked to explain, she could not.  Maybe Hillwood wasn't as bad as she thought.

**A/N:** Helga's married to Arnold… but why would she leave?  What does Phoebe know?  And what about the gang? You'll find out!  R&R please, it helps!  The next chapter might take another day or so because I have yet to write it.  I tired to lengthen them… oh well.  I'd appreciate it of you wouldn't flame my work.  I accept and value criticism, but saying you hate my story doesn't help.  The next chapter will come before the end of the week.  I've been putting a lot of work into this…. Hope it shows.


	6. Seeking Comfort in the Past

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Sweet Home, Alabama".  All references to it are used for fan enjoyment.

**A/N:** I want to thank you for your support on this.  It's helped me so much.  I write to please, so enjoy!

**Sweet Home, Hillwood**

By: ChickenGoddess

****

**Chapter 4:**

**Seeking Comfort in the Past**

****

****

"OLGA!" Her father's gruff voice bellowed.

She rolled to her side, ignoring him as custom.  Mr. Simmons wouldn't care if she were five minutes late.

"That Orphan Boy is here to see you!"

Her eyes shot open, a numbing pain in her chest.  She hated when he called Arnold that.

"OLGA!"

"I'm coming!" She called.  Stepping out of bed, she ran down the stairs, mentally swooning that he had come to see her.  She saw her father… he looked older than she remembered him being.  Outside stood Arnold… only he wasn't the 4th grader she expected.  He was tall, wore his hair down, blue jeans, white t-shirt and unbuttoned plaid shirt.  Suddenly, she remembered that they weren't in Mr. Simmons 4th grade anymore… they were grown adults.  She gasped at this realization.

"Happy to see me or shocked?" He asked.

"No… it's just… go away Bob." She said, noticing the Beeper King was listening in.

"You're in my house, Olga.  I can listen to what I want."

Helga sighed angrily.  "Let's go, Arnold."

"If you haven't noticed… you're still in pajamas."

She looked down at her attire and sighed.  "Wait one minute."

Arnold did as she instructed and in a few minutes, she came running down the stairs in familiar blue jeans and pink t-shirt.  They stepped outside and she closed the door behind her.

"Sorry. My dad's an asshole." She said, ashamed.

"It's not so bad now that I hear it every time I open your door." He replied.

"I said I was sorry!" She replied.

He looked at her… and smiled.

"What?" She asked.

"Nothing.  What was the gasp for?"

"I thought I was still in 4th grade…" She confessed.

"You're kidding."

"Nope." She confirmed. "So… why did you show up at my house 10:30 in the morning?"

"I wanted to take you somewhere." He replied.

She eyed him questioningly.

"What?  I have missed you."

He lead them to the bus stop where they rode the same vehicle for perhaps an hour, and finally when the got off, he informed her that they would have to walk a little farther.  A little farther turned out to be forty-three minutes.  Two thirds of the way through this journey, Helga stopped walking, sitting promptly on the concrete sidewalk.

"Why'd you stop? We're almost there." He said.

"I… can't…breathe.  Need…a…break." She gasped.

"That's what you get when you drive a fancy car around the big city.  Look how out of shape you are!" He teased.

She smiled. "If… I wasn't so tired… I'd make you pay for that." 

"How would you do that?  I'm in better shape!" He continued, smirking.

"Old…Betsy… still has a few tricks…up her sleeve…" She panted.

Arnold laughed at the mentioning of her left fist.  Helga laughed too.  

"Come on, you." He said, lifting her off the ground and carrying her over his shoulder.

"Put me down!" She insisted.

"What was that?" he asked, walking on.

"Let me go!  This isn't funny!"

"Why are you laughing then?" He asked.

"Because…." She said, but could not explain.  

"What?  Cat got your tongue?" He continued.

"I don't know!" She replied, still laughing.

"The girl I knew was never speechless." He reminded.

"She didn't have a life!" Helga retorted happily.

"That never bothered her." Arnold countered.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked after a moment of reflection.

"You'll see!" He said, speeding up.

"Don't drop me!"

"Don't you trust me?"

_'I don't know…'_ she thought.

Several moments later, as she was falling asleep on is shoulder, he dropped her to the ground.  She had expected it to hurt… until she realized that she had fallen on sand.  She looked around and saw that they were at the only lake in Hillwood with actual sand.  He was standing there, smiling.

"That wasn't nice." She said with a smile, brushing sand off her clothes.

"What you gonna do about it?" He retorted.

"Oh nothing… just THIS!" She said, charging him in attempt to tackle him to the ground.  

Totally unexpecting this, he flew to the ground.  Upon notice that she had pinned him, he easily reversed their position, both of them laughing like children.  What should have been awkward felt strangely comfortable to Helga. She had no idea why, only that this was the most fun she had in a long time….  Suddenly, she saw his eyes.  Beautiful pools of emerald lit up, screaming with joy and beaming with delight.  She could see herself in his eyes… but more importantly, she saw his soul.  Innocent yet wild… loving and needy, hungry for passion and complacent with simplicity… she was lost in the beautiful pools of green depths.  When she was conscious again she no longer saw his eyes, for hers were closed and his lips were touching hers.  Apparently, he had realized the same thing, because he stood up, offering a hand to her.  Helga wondered what had made her do such a thing…what had made her think the old way.  Embarrassed to herself, she admitted that she liked the way her thoughts sounded.  Still hand in hand, he led her to the rock that served as a pilling, where they had sat so many years ago.

"It's so beautiful here." She said, taking everything in.

"I remembered how much you liked it." He said, watching the wind play with her hair.  She looked just like she had the last time they had been here… they had been married, and still very much in love.  He'd surprised her, spur of the moment and brought her here.

_'Why did this have to end?'_ she asked herself bitterly.  He was so… Arnold.  The boy she had worshiped since preschool.  The waves crashed beneath her, exploding into white foam at the shoreline.  The wind chilled her… some cold, painful realization of loneliness and solitude, as if to say: this is what it's like when everything has gone wrong.  She thought of Kevin… the wind blew harder, slicing through her bones.  The feeling of cloth on her shoulders interrupted her thoughts.  She turned to see Arnold placing his plaid shirt on her.

"You don't have to." She said.

"I know.  I want to."

She smiled.  Suddenly, the cold was gone.  Everything was simple with Arnold.  Nothing needed to be extravagant or complicated… just perfect.  Why couldn't Kevin make her feel this way?  Why couldn't _he_ be the one who made her warm?  Had that been him, he would have said nothing.  Maybe 'you should bring a jacket' would escape his lips, but no kind gesture.  That wasn't his style.  She gazed at Arnold who was starring at the sky, most likely trying to make out constellations.  She smiled.  She liked the way his white t-shirt hugged is chest and torso… she could remember every curve of his body and how it had satisfied hers so long ago.  She had to stop.  Arnold was NOT making her think these thoughts.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Nothing." She lied.

"We should head back.  It's getting late."

"How late?"

"10:30.  And we have that walk." He reminded.

"Can't we catch the later bus?" She asked.

He couldn't refuse her… not now.  "Sure.  Why not?" he replied.

She smiled.  The stars seemed brighter tonight than in a thousand years.  Now she knew why.

She blinked herself awake, adjusting to the soft light flooding in around her.  The first thing she did was sigh.  She was so comfortable….  The quiet lapping of water seemed to awaken her to reality.  She was lying on the rock-pilling, in Arnold's embrace.  They must have fallen asleep sometime after midnight… she had pleaded to stay just a few more minutes.  Relaxing again, she closed her eyes and became reacquainted with the distantly familiar beating of his heart and scent of his hair.  It smelled just like it did since preschool, when she would have to sneak up behind him in order to sniff it.  She smiled to herself, recalling that.

Moments later, she heard Arnold wake and decided that it had to end sometime… all good things did.  

"You know, we've never see the sunrise." He mused.

"I know." She replied, watching the pink light spill over the horizon.  "It's beautiful."

_'So are you…'_ he sighed mentally.  This Helga, the one who wore no makeup and simple clothes.  The girl who had love and life in her eyes… raw passion and pure romance, long neglected need and tenderness… all these things were her soul.  The girl he fell in love with and married.  The woman he loved more than everything and anything.  Last night he had seen her soul… seen her happy.  He had almost kissed her, not that it would be a bad thing.

**A/N**: is Helga falling in love again?  What about the Cheese Festival?  And why did she leave?  The answers will arrive!  (soon as my tupid teachers stop giving me a metric ton of homework each night)


	7. A Day on the Town

**A/N:** Sorry this installment has been so late in coming.  To compensate for this, I made Chapter 5 longer than the previous.  Hope you like it!

**Sweet Home, Hillwood**

By: ChickenGoddess

****

**Chapter 5:**

**A Day on the Town**

****

Helga sighed as she ran the water in the bathroom shower.  Big Bob had gone to work at his Beeper Emporium and Miriam was again, passed out behind the couch.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  Helga fancied the idea of replacing her mother's Vodka with water, just to see the effects.  She laughed at that.  Miriam getting pissed that she wasn't getting drunk… and she'd never suspect a thing!  Maybe she could even get her into sobriety!  The only time _that_ occasion was in order was when Olga was home.  Helga again smiled at the mentioning of her older sister who as of now, was a convent member in France.  She had said something to the effect of, _"Mummy, Daddy, I've finally discovered my calling.  I've joined a convent.  I'm going to be a nun!"_ Helga burst out laughing, recalling the astonished look on her parents faces.  

_"But Olga!" Bob protested, "Don't you wanna get married?!"_

_"NO!! Don't get married, Olga!  NEVER!" Miriam cried, embracing her daughter._

_"But Daddy… all I wanted was for you to be happy…" She began crying here.  "I want so much to help the poor children in poverty-stricken countries.  I love my God more than any man, except you!  I just want to make you proud!"_

That won Big Bob over.  He hugged his daughter and she went off to become a nun.  She was better known as "Sister Elizabeth"… attempting to be the next Mother Theresa.  No one much cared when he had announced her engagement to Arnold.  Bob asked if he was that Orphan Boy and Miriam offered a word of warning.  It wasn't anything Helga hadn't expected.  She sighed and stepped into the shower.  Maybe she would pay _him_ an unexpected visit later on… just to see his reaction.

After swapping the contents of the Absolut Vodka bottle with tap water, Helga, clad in jeans and pink t-shirt, walked down to Arnold's house. What she would say was beyond her.  She just wanted to repay the favor.  Maybe they could hit up the movie theater.  She hadn't been there in years, and plus, Evil Twin XII (12) was playing and she had been _dying _to see it.  "the girls" didn't like that sort of movie.  "the girls" never actually _went_ to the movies…. Finally she arrived at the white door and knocked.  A few moments later, she stood face to face with Arnold again.  He looked a bit shocked.

"Surprised to see me?" she asked.

"Actually… I am." He replied.

"What?  You can show up at my door at 10:30 in the morning but I can't visit in the afternoon, unannounced?"

Arnold laughed.  "What brings you down here in normal clothes and… on foot nonetheless!" he exaggerated.

"I…was… I was bored and wanted to go somewhere." She lied.

"You can do that."

"Nobody's home… Phoebe hasn't called and anyone from the gang might die of shock if I called them." She reminded.  "Plus, I had a lot of fun last night.  I was hoping we could hang out."

"Hang out?" He asked curiously.

"Like go see a movie, get a shake at Slausen's, see Gerald Field… that stuff."

"Ok." Arnold agreed, stepping outside.  "Where to?"

"Evil Twin XII!" She cried, grabbing his wrist excitedly.

She could remember the first time she had seen Evil Twin I in the same theater, back in the 4th grade.  It so happened that Evil Twin XII was the best of them all.  Every four seconds the audience screamed.  She and Arnold ended up in a sort of embrace, had anyone seen them, the consensus would have been that they were a pair of teenagers.

"That was the best Evil Twin movie, ever!" Helga said as they walked out of the theater.

"That's what you said about the last one." He reminded.

"I know… they can't make a bad Evil Twin flick." She replied.

"Where to now?" Arnold asked.

"Slausen's sounds good to me.  What about you?"

"Race you there." He said.

"You're on." She replied, a glint in her eye.

"One… two… ten!" He bust into a run at full speed.

"Hey!  That's cheating!" She called as she trailed behind.

"Did I say I was counting to three?" He replied with a smile as he turned the corner.

Helga smiled and continued running as fast as her lower body would carry her.  Before long she had caught up with him but not in time to emerge the victor of the race.  They paused outside the ice cream shop to catch their breath.

"I win." Arnold said.

"Because you cheated!" She replied.

"You assume too much.  I never said I'd count _directly_ to ten."  He retorted innocently.

"You won't be so lucky next time!" She forewarned.

"Bring it on.  You're out of shape, city girl." He continued.

"So I am.  Doesn't mean I can't win next time." She replied.

"Whatever you say, Helga." He sighed, opening the door for her.

She recognized this phrase and rolled her eyes as she stepped into the ice cream parlor.  They sat on the swivel stools as they had years ago. Arnold ordered the custom to split, which was what Helga had in mind anyway.

"It's amazing how so much can change… but so much stays the same." She said.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Phoebe's pregnant and I'm sure the gang have changed so much since I last saw them.  I think I've missed out on so much, and then I come here and see you, and it's like three years were a second." She mused.

He analyzed her statement.  "Some things never change."

"Simple as it sounds… it's so true."

Arnold smiled.  "Now that's the girl I remember." 

He detected a hint of blush on her cheeks.  "Guess she's still around after all."

"That girl could never die." He said firmly.

"Why do you say that?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She was too strong.  Too feisty and stubborn.  Couldn't make her go away if you tried." He offered.

"I can say the same for you." She replied.

"Some things never change." He echoed her previous statement.

"Where to now?" She asked, seeing as they had finished their shake.

"Gerald Field is only a block away… we could check it out and then head over to the city park." Arnold suggested.

"Works for me." She replied.

They walked side by side until they reached the vacant lot known to this day and its generation as "Gerald Field".  Arnold had even been so modest as to let his best friend's name live in Hillwood infamy.  She smiled as she recalled the sense of unselfishness that he still possessed.  They reached the lot, which looked as if their team might arrive any second for a practice or a game.  Even the scoreboard remained unchanged.  She was certain that the younger generations now claimed ownership to the lot, part of it would always belong to them.  They had in a sense, brought it to life.  Cleared it of the junk and beautified the possibility they had seen in a young boy's vision.  All of them had cooperated in a joint effort to make something for themselves… they'd never thought it would last so long.  One would expect the lot to have been purchased by now… yet still, it remained in all its glory.  It seemed like a distant relative… old and wise with age.  It had borne witness to several generations and held the wisdom and knowledge of each by experience.

"It's still the same." She managed.

"I know." He replied. "Sometimes, no matter how much you want them to, things just don't go away."

She looked at him seriously.

"I was talking about the lot." He lied.

"Oh.  I know." She followed suit.

Arnold lifted a worn and beaten ball from the grass beneath.  "Think you can hit as well as the old days?" He asked.

"I doubt it." She replied.

"Grab the bat and we'll see." He said, gesturing to the batter's box where a bat of equal age rested.

"No way.  I'm not getting dirty."

"You sound like Rhonda.  That's exactly what you used to make fun of her for." Arnold reminded, knowing how to get the best of her.

Helga, as predicted, lifted the bat and assumed the stance she wasn't sure she actually remembered.  All she knew is that she wasn't Princess Rhonda Lloyd… right?  Arnold approached the mound and threw her an easy pitch.  She missed.

"Rusty, are we?" He smiled.

"Just you wait!" She replied, happiness instead of anger pulsing through her veins.

Seventeen pitches later, Helga began to loose hope in the fact that she could hit a ball.  The glory days of her youth were long gone and replaced by some upper-class city girl who had forgotten where she came from.  Hadn't Arnold said the same thing to her when she had first seen him?  She was going to prove them all wrong.  Her eyes settled on the pitcher.  She saw the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, a beautiful hue of jade seen by so few… the sound of his voice… all of this was comforting and suddenly, she felt she could do anything placed before her.  With a powerful '_thwack'_, the ball flew across the street. He started for a moment.

"Guess I haven't lost the knack after all." She gloated.

"Guess not." He replied, a stupefied grin on his face.

"Is your stance as bad as I remember?" She asked jokingly.

"We could find out… if you hadn't lost the ball on us." He reminded.

"Oh well… to the park?" She asked, offering an arm.

"As you wish." He replied, taking it.

The park was quiet, as they reached it by sunset.  They did, however get a beautiful picture as the sun set behind the lake and surrounding foliage.  As the sun sank beneath the horizon, clouds with the foreboding of a storm on their breath resumed its place.

"We should get going… it's gonna pour." Arnold said.

"How can you be sure?" She asked.

"Look at the sky.  What's your prediction?"

"Just a while longer…?" She requested.  The air was cool and even though she was certain of the storm Arnold foresaw, she could not help but remain.  Part of her actually _wanted_ to be caught in the rain.  She didn't know why, but she did.

Knowing he couldn't refuse her even if he tried, he sat beside her on the grass.  A wind blew through the park, animating the trees so that they danced in its presence.   Before long, the clouds opened like a celestial dam breaking in the heavens.  He watched Helga as she sat, unchanged by the downpour.

"Helga?  Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah.  Just thinking." She replied.

"Penny for your thoughts." He offered.

She smiled.  "It's been years since I was caught in the rain."

"That would explain your lack of pneumonia." He tried.

She laughed.

"Stand up or you'll be sitting in mud." He said, offering a hand.

She accepted the gesture and they began to walk the path that traveled through the park.  All of a sudden, Helga's grip on his hand was gone and he watched her as she jumped into a puddle, her eyes lighting up as she laughed.  He sighed with an eye roll as he approached the soaking wet grown woman who was still jumping up and down in a puddle of rainwater.  Eventually, she lost her footing and ended up sitting in the puddle of water.  Arnold laughed.  She sat there and laughed with him.

"Sorry about that…" She said.

He again offered his hand.  "No need to apologize."

"Where to now?" She asked.

"First, we change." He replied.

"But my house is like twelve blocks or something!" She said.

"Back at the house… you left some things.  I kept them for you.  If it's not uncomfortable for you, we could go back there.  It's only a block or so…" He tried nervously.

"Sure." She answered, knowing that while it might be a little awkward, it would be warm.

"Ok." He replied.

She entered the house she had once lived in and nearly gasped.  Not a thing was out of place.  Everything was just as she had left it.

"Your stuff is upstairs.  You can use the shower there… you know where the bedroom is, right?" He broke her thoughts.

"Yeah… I remember." She replied, still taking everything in.  "What about you?"

"I'll use the shower down here." He said, removing his sopping wet plaid shirt.  

She smiled to herself at the way his wet t-shirt clung to his body.

"What?" He asked, interrupting her gaze.

"…Nothing.  I'm gonna shower now…. Thanks." She stuttered as she ascended the stairway.  

The upstairs was in the same condition as the downstairs had been.  The two rooms they had reserved for the children they had both wanted still remained empty.  It seemed as if he rarely ventured into this part of the house.  She came face to face with the door to the bedroom they had once shared.  With a nervous sigh, she twisted the knob and pushed the double doors open.  Particles of dust that had remained undisturbed floated through the air, as if finally awakened.  She gasped.  Everything, down to the location of the picture frames was just as her memory had pictured.  As if to confirm it, she lifted the frame containing their wedding picture and saw the pattern the dust had made around it.  He then opened her drawer and found the clothing she had left behind neatly stacked and folded, as if it had been waiting for her to return.  Numbly, she selected a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.  Thankfully, she had left a bra and underwear behind as well.  She remembered the mess she ad left this room in… she had torn everything apart and left whatever wouldn't fit in her suitcase behind in the cyclone.  He must have picked everything up and folded it neatly before placing it in her drawers, the way she would have organized it.  The bathroom was left untouched as well.  She ran the water and hugged herself while it got warm.  A sick pit formed in her stomach, not only of guilt but sadness as well.  She ad never really considered what she had done to him.  Now she knew.  She could see him as he brokenheartedly picked each solitary piece of clothing from the floor and folded it neatly before placing it in its designated stack in her drawer.  She could see the tears on his face as he clung to the pillow she had slept on while he lay awake for nights on end.  Finally, she could see him crying as he shut the doors to their room, knowing he would never again be able to go there.  She stepped into the shower, blocking out any memories she may have had of them from a time when they had been in love, but failed miserably.  She remembered a time when she had not been alone in this shower… but now she was.  That final image of Arnold closing the door to their room, tears on his face and pain in his heart came to her again.  This time, she cried.  The forgiving waters mingled with the salt of her tears and washed them away.

The cry had done her good, helped a little in the absolution of her guilt, but not nearly enough to kill it. Fully dressed, she ventured downstairs with her sopping laundry in hand.

"Finally.  I thought you fell in." He greeted.

She smiled.  "Got a dryer?" She asked.

"Lucky I didn't run it yet." He said.

"You run the wash, I'll make something that resembles dinner?" Helga suggested.

"Sounds like a plan." He replied.

Helga walked into the kitchen.  She was a bit out of practice… but so she had been with baseball.  If she could do that, she was certain she could at least cook a meal… or something like it.  Opening the drawer, she caught sight of the life-saving red label.  She grabbed the can and sighed thankfully.  "Campbell's Soup, warms you heart and soul."

Arnold had praised her cooking, which she modestly denied, telling him to complement Mr. Campbell instead.  She had managed to throw together some sandwiches to accompany the soup, which she was quite proud of.

"It's still relatively early." She said.

Arnold rolled his eyes.  "What's next on your list of crazy things to accomplish?"

"We could be lazy and channel surf…" She suggested.

"Fist one to the couch gets the clicker." He said.

"You're on." She replied before making a mad dash for the couch.

A movie later, Helga found herself bidding farewell to Arnold.  She was surprised at how much she didn't actually want to leave.

"You could stay, you know.  It's your house too." He said.

She thought this over… her conscience screamed against it, but for the first time in a long time, she screamed for it to pipe down, bukko.  "Sure." She said, grabbing the remote before Arnold could.

He hadn't expected her to take is offer, but was elated that she had.  "What are we watching now?"

"Don't yet know." She replied as he sat beside her.

Arnold was the first to wake up the next morning.  Helga had fallen asleep curled up against his chest.  He smiled, embracing her firmer.  She really did look like an angel when she slept… her golden hair framing her delicate face.  If this could last forever, he would define it as heaven.  Of everything that he had managed to figure out and all the people he had managed to help, she was still a mystery wrapped in an enigma.  What had plagued his childhood was her secret love, and now… now it was something else.  There would always be part of her that would remain a mystery and that was what had after all these years still drawn him to her.  Helga began to stir with a yawn. He smiled.  She looked so cute when she yawned like that.

"Morning sunshine." He said.

"Likewise." She replied.

"Can I offer you some breakfast before you head home?" He asked.

_'this is home…'_ she thought.  "Sure."

"You're gonna have to move." He reminded.

Reluctantly she did.

She had expected to enter a dimly lit Pataki house, as Bob would be at work and Miriam would be drunk in the kitchen or behind the couch or on the stove, but she entered an immaculately clean and fully lit house.

"Miriam?" She asked.

"Oh Helga!" She replied soberly.

            "Miriam?!" She replied, shocked at the state of sobriety Miriam was in.

            "I went grocery shopping and I actually got them home today!  I dropped off the dry clean only stuff at the drycleaners and I could _read_ the labels!  I ran the wash without making any mistakes!  I even put the groceries away right!  Oh, Helga I haven't felt this good in years!" Miriam explained.

"That's great, Mom!" Helga replied both shocked and stunned.

"Bob was actually _happy_ with me!  Helga, you have no idea!" She cried.

Helga did the only things she found herself able, she hugged Miriam and her mother actually hugged her back.  "I'm proud of you, Mom." She said.

"You called me 'mom'…" Mrs. Pataki gasped, tears of joy in her eyes.

"I love you, Mom." Helga replied honestly.

"Oh Helga!" She cried, again embracing her daughter.  "I love you too, baby.  I love you so much!"

Helga was crying too.

A/N: Next chapter: the Cheese Festival.  ****


	8. Love and Cheese

**A/N:** Sorry I couldn't get it out faster…. The gang makes their debut! 

**Sweet Home, Hillwood**

By: ChickenGoddess

****

**Chapter 6:**

**Love and Cheese**

****

 For the first time since their road trip to the Midwest, Helga and her mother spent quality time together.  A happy and sober Miriam took Helga out to lunch and Miriam proudly displayed how well she could run errands without making a mistake like leaving her credit card in the ATM or the groceries on the roof of the car.  Helga humored her mother… she was like a child who just learned to tie her shoes.  At one time, Helga would have resented this change in her mother, told her that it was too late for her to change and be the mother she had missed out on.  Things were different now.  She didn't know why, but they were.  Watching the newfound happiness consuming her mother had been enough to convince her.  She wasn't speaking in her customary monotone, but a voice Helga had heard on the seldom occasion of Olga's visits.  The best part was, Miriam had sobered up to be with her.  She had offered to spend the day with Helga, doing errands and various mother-daughter activities.  Miriam had missed a lot in her daughter's life… but had been granted a second chance and was confident in her ability to make the best of it.

Helga sighed as she saw the bright lights of the Cheese Festival in the distance as she approached the field where it was held.  

'_Time to meet the gang…._'

She had never gone to the Cheese Festival alone… she had been there with Phoebe, but never alone.  She pulled her jacket tighter around her as she walked past the booths filled with all kinds of cheesy fun.  She laughed mentally at the horrible pun her mind had just created.

"Helga?!" A voice cried out.

She whipped around to see none other than Rhonda Wellington Lloyd Berman accompanied by her husband… and child.

"Rhonda?!  Harold?! You have a baby?!" She managed.

"This is Courtney." She replied.  "She's two years old."

"And there's another bun in the oven!" Harold announced proudly.

"Does he mean food wise or you're pregnant again?" Helga joked.

"Madam Fortress Mommy." Harold muttered for old times sake.

Helga laughed.

"You've been quite the busy bee since you left Hillwood!" Rhonda announced.

Helga looked to her uncomprehendingly.

"_Chic_ has to be the _hottest _line of clothing out there!  Congratulations!  You make more money that anyone from PS118."  Rhonda replied.

Helga sighed, noting the truth in the proverb, _some things never change_.  "So Harold, how's the butcher business?"

"Not as good as the fashion industry Rhonda's always talking about, but I couldn't be happier."

"That's great, Harold."

"Helga?! Rhonda?! Is that you?!" Another familiar voice called.

"Nadine, doll, come here!" Rhonda replied.

Nadine followed by the infamously known Peapod Kid joined their mini reunion.  Rhonda never could stay away from attention.  Helga hadn't seen Nadine since her wedding.  She had decided to ditch the pigtails and let her hair down.  Judging from the fact that she was wearing one of Helga's custom designed dresses, she had come into some money that wasn't just Peapod's.

"Nadine?!  I haven't seen you since… forever!" Helga said.

"The last time was your wedding, I think."

"What have you been up to?"

"Nadine is a well-renowned Entomologist.  I prefer to stay with accounting." Peapod answered.

"I can tell that you've done well." Nadine added, showing off her dress.

"Thanks, Nadine."

"Where's Arnold?  Did you come together?"

Helga hesitated.  "He should be here soon."

"Living so far away is terrible.  You miss everything that happens to the people you love.  This being said, I think now's as good a time as any to tell you all… we're moving back to Hillwood." She announced.

"That's great!" Rhonda shouted, truly happy.  "Now we can talk every night and go out for coffee together!"

"They're setting up an Entomology department in the lab.  Peapod and I want our kids to grow up here… we do want a family." She explained.

_'They still call him Peapod…' _

"Helga?  Are you all right?" Peapod asked.

"Yeah… I was just thinking about how that nickname stuck all these years."

He laughed.  "I suppose I have you to thank for that."

She smiled.  "I'm gonna check out the rest of the festival.  I'll see you around."

They bid her farewell and continued their catching up on old times. She walked father, taking in everything she'd just heard.  Rhonda was a mother.  Nadine was a bug scientist.  She figured that Rhonda was going on about how she had left Arnold three years ago because this was _still_ Rhonda.  Helga sighed and kept walking.  She did a double take upon seeing Eugene and Sheena.  They had married and lived in Hillwood for a while, and then taken their choreography to Broadway.  They were smiling and laughing, talking with Lila and Brainy.

"Sheena and Eugene moved back to Hillwood a year ago." Arnold's voice whispered from behind her.

She jumped in fright and sighed with relief as she aw that it was Arnold standing behind her.  "Don't sneak upon me like that!" She replied.

"Sorry." He said.  "Lila and Brainy moved farther from here, into the farming area.  Brainy is a woods person."

"What about little Mrs. Perfect?" She asked, annoyance in her tone.

"Lila?  How should I know?" He replied.  "We don't have to say hi or anything.  We can wait until they leave.  Sid and Marisa are over here with Stinky."

"Marisa… she's the brunette ex model he fell for when he worked for the WPA?"  She asked.

"You remember."

"Of course!  He got kicked out for that! Does he still work for the CIA?" She asked.

"I think so…" Arnold replied.

"I reckon that's Arnold and Helga!" Stinky exclaimed.

"Hey Arnold!  Helga!  What's up?" Sid asked.

"The usual.  How've you all been?" He replied.

"I reckon I'm just fine.  The missus, though, she's feelin' mighty sick lately, on account of that's why she stayed home tonight."

"She'll be ok." Arnold assured.

"You haven't changed." Sid replied.

"How's the CIA?" Arnold asked.

"I'm not at liberty to say." He replied.

They stared at him.

"Just kidding." He smiled.

They laughed.

Helga sat on the side and watched as the attendants of the Cheese Festival enjoyed themselves, running from ride to ride. There had only been two festivals where she had a horrible time.  After that, Arnold had asked her and those memories had faded like a bad dream.

"Hello Helga." The unmistakable voice of her Japanese friend said.

"Pheebs!" She cried happily.

"I'm aware that I haven't telephoned you yet, but things at he lab are so busy lately…"

"It's fine!" She said, motioning for Phoebe to sit down.

"Having fun?"

"It's great seeing everyone again." She admitted.

"Did you hear about Curly?"

"What?  That he bought his own third world country?" She replied.

Phoebe nodded.

"Never saw that one coming." Helga offered.

Her friend laughed.  "Hillwood's different from the city… isn't it?"

Helga sighed.  "Yeah.  I mean, I'm really happy there.  But then I come here… and this fits too."

Phoebe nodded in understanding.

Helga's eyes roamed the faces in the crowd, searching for familiarity.  She eventually saw the old gang, minus Curly huddled together in conversation.  Arnold and Gerald did their thumb-wiggle like they had all those years ago.  Harold was whining.  Rhonda and Nadine were discussing _something_, most likely pertaining to the fashion world.  Sid and Stinky joked casually with one another while Peapod Kid conversed with Marisa, Briny and Lila.  Arnold was laughing, his jade eyes illuminating in all their glory.  Helga smiled.  Phoebe mimicked her friend's action as she observed her.  Though she couldn't be certain, she knew Helga was looking at Arnold.  Just like she had known the object of her affection so many years ago.

"Come on, Helga." Phoebe said, standing up.

"What?"

"Are you gonna sit here all night?" She asked, smiling.

Helga stood with a smile as she joined the conversation.  

"Come on, Helga!" Phoebe pleaded.

"No way!  There's no way you're getting me on the Tunnel of Love." She replied stubbornly.

"Please?"

"Why should I?  This is pointless, Pheebs!" She tried.

"For the lady with the baby?" Phoebe begged innocently.

"…Only because you're my best friend and you gave me the guilt trip!" Helga coincided.  She had no idea as to why her friend would want her to do something so stupid and juvenile as the tunnel of love, but decided that questioning wouldn't get her anywhere.

They stood in line, the rebuilt green wall separating the girls from the boys.  Unfortunately, they had built too high for her to see over.  She sighed, praying to God this wouldn't be as bad as she expected.  Finally, she stepped past the wall and faced the person she would be riding with.

"Arnold?!"

"Helga?!"

"Hop in!" The ride instructor said.  "Be good, you two." He added as he sent them on their way.

"Does he say that to everyone, or just us?" Helga asked.

"I'm pretty sure the adult couples." Arnold replied.  "How was it… seeing everybody again?"

"Kinda strange… partially because I still remember us as 4th graders for some reason, and partially because there's so much that's different and so much that hasn't changed." She replied.

"I know what you mean." He agreed.  "Peapod is scarred for life."

Helga laughed.  "And it's my fault."

"I'm sure he doesn't mind." Arnold replied.

"Whatever happened to Chocolate Boy?" She asked.

"He got mental help… OCD or something.  He's a chocoholic advocate." He replied.

"Curly has his own country…"

"Just glad I don't live there." He said.

"Aren't we all?" She laughed. "Twisted little freak."

"Remember the time he painted himself with tiger stripes,"

"And freed all the animals in the zoo!" They finished together, laughing.

"Or the time he ate Mr. Simmons lesson plan in 6th grade!" Helga reminded, laughed overriding her voice.

"Remember when he threw the frogs we were dissecting at the science teacher in 9th grade?" Arnold asked, laughing hard.

"Of course!  The infamous Frog Fight!  Poor Sid was traumatized!" She added.

"Simmons was glad he didn't have us for science!"

"Only homeroom and another random class until high school graduation!" Helga reminded.

He watched her as she laughed and couldn't help but smile.  She had always been the most amazing person he'd ever met, and that certainly hadn't changed.  No matter how hard she tried to change herself, Arnold concluded that her spirit was too strong to die.  She felt things too strongly, which at times was either a blessing or a curse.  To him, it was the greatest gift one could possess.  To stand firm in your convictions and fight to the death for them, that was the kind of person Helga was.  He loved the way her eyes lit up when she laughed… the way he could read her soul through them.  Perhaps she had caught this look of admiration in his eyes, because she wore an identical expression.  Before either of them had been aware of it, they were in a full lip lock, passionate as those shared the night of their wedding.  Helga nearly melted feeling Arnold's strong grip around her waist and his free hand running through her hair.  It was like it had always been.  The kiss was broken by the flood of light streaming through the end of the tunnel, denoting the end of the ride.  Each pulled away reluctantly, sitting awkwardly with silence of the same sort between them.  They stepped off the ride and bid the other a short and rushed goodbye.  Her exit had been so quick that he failed to catch the expression on her face.  Helga Pataki was smiling.  


	9. Why She Left

**A/N:** Again… I apologize for the lateness. Hope you like it. 

**Sweet Home, Hillwood**

By: ChickenGoddess

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**Chapter 7:**

**Why She Left**

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 She lay awake, thinking of one thing: the kiss.  She recalled feeling like this once before… when they had saved the neighborhood and she had confessed everything and kissed him before she knew what she was doing.  Afterwards… she couldn't really describe how she felt… it had been guilt, regret, and a little excitement.  This feeling was at the other end of the spectrum.  This was like floating.  Being totally and utterly weightless… giddy… loopy… she felt she could go on listing synonymous adjectives forever.  With that, she lifted a pen paper from her dresser and set to clear her mind.  She would write until she felt drained. It would release her emotions and she could get to sleep.  Sighing, she placed the tip of the pen on the paper and sure enough, her hand began to move as thoughts raced back and forth through her mind.  Finally, her hand ceased to move.  It ached, but she was done.  A weight had already been lifted.  She decided to read what she had written. Helga starred at the paper, her blue eyes wide in a combination of shock and pride.  She had written a poem.  A really good one too.  Well, pretty good for a girl who hasn't written a sentence in three year.  She read it over and over again, still in disbelief that it had come from her.

_Intoxicated from the bliss_

_Drunk the pleasure of thy kiss_

_Tender lips that haunt my mind_

_From the past in which I find_

_All the things I'm dreaming of_

_Perhaps this is what they call love_

Glowing with pride and alive with inspiration, Helga put the pen back on the paper and began to write.  She didn't know or much care what would end up written on that paper.  Whatever it was came from her heart… who knew, it might even sound as good as the prior poem.  Smiling, her hand began to move rapidly, forming words then sentences and whole paragraphs or stanzas.  This continued until three in the morning, when her arm refused to move, much to her dismay.  

That morning, she opened the book and read all that she had scribbled the night before.  She was amazed that she still had the knack for writing.  It seemed that she did better when she wasn't conscious of what was being written… she was at her best when her fingers told the story as dictated by her subconscious.  She contemplated what had brought such powerful muse upon her.

Arnold.

Something as simple as her childhood fantasy still had the power to inspire her so deeply.  Now she was faced with another problem.

"What does all this mean?" She asked aloud.

Part of her, the 4th grade Helga G. Pataki screamed at her, _"you love him, doi!"_, but the practical-sensible voice she had abided by for the past three years silenced the bully.  She said that there was some psychological explanation for this, that she couldn't love Arnold.  Not after what he put her through.  Her conscious mind thought that maybe she had been jumping to conclusions… Arnold didn't seem like the kind of person who would hurt her like that.  Once again, Practical-Sensible spoke up, _"None of them do.  There's never a stereotype, sweetie."_. 

"I think… I love him." She concluded.

_"Oh don't be ridiculous!" _Practical-Sensible argued.__

_"Shut it, you High-Class Little Miss Rich Girl!" _4th grade Helga shouted.

_"What would you know, you idealistic fool?"_ Practical-Sensible rebutted.

_"More than you, bukko!"_ She replied defiantly.  If she had a physical representation, she would be balling her fists.

_"Oh really?  Look at all the pain you put us through.  You finally got what you thought you wanted and look how it ended.  Are you some kind of masochist?"_ P-S replied, a hint of supremacy in her tone.

_"It was worth it!  What would you know about love?!  If anyone's the masochist, it's you!  You want to see us all suffer for the rest of our lives?!"_ Little Helga shouted angrily.

P-S was silenced for the moment.  "…Fine.  But what will you do about Kevin?"

"Who?" Helga asked aloud.

"Kevin… you're fiancée?  Not legally, though." P-S replied.

Helga's heart sank.  Kevin didn't make her feel like Arnold did.  Kevin… well, he had just been there.  She wasn't emotionally attached… or sexually attracted in any way.  True, he was handsome… but not like Arnold.  Putting the two juxtaposing each other in her mind left no contest.  Arnold won.  "I don't know." She replied.  "I need to think this out… for myself." With that, the voices of 4th grade Helga and Practical-Sensible were silent.  She laughed to herself.  "If only Dr. Bliss knew the voices in my head argue…" She sighed.

Wait.

Maybe that was it.  See Dr. Bliss… or somebody who would listen.  One name came to mind.  She raced to the phone and dialed the seven digits as fast as humanly possible.

"Phoebe?  Are you busy? … How about later?  Six?  That works for me!  Ok, thanks.  You're a Goddess, Pheebs.  I'm serious!  Ok.  See you then." She placed the phone in its cradle.  Phoebe wasn't available until six.  She'd just have to kill the time on her own.  Talking to Arnold would be too awkward right now… especially after last night.  She grabbed her jacket from the coat rack and headed out the door. 

She walked in no particular direction, her legs doing the steering for her.  Everything was so surreal… as if she wasn't truly there, like it had all been a dream.  Luckily, a random child had run into her and assured her that this was indeed reality.  She didn't know why, but she found herself standing before PS118.  Strangely, it hadn't changed in the slightest… at least on the outside.  She walked the old cement stairs, worn with age.  Strangely, she found one of the double doors unlocked.  Not even bothering to mentally take note of the consequences, she entered the building where she had spent eight years of her life.

Past the old and peeling green lockers and the seemingly worn tiled floor, he found her classroom.  For some reason, she remembered fourth grade the most. Everyone has a year they remember with the most clarity.  Of her childhood, Helga decided that 4th grade was the most memorable.  She opened the door and entered the room, finding the desks in the same order.  The posters were different because Mr. Simmons had retired after her class graduated High School.  Whether chance or fate, he was assigned as their homeroom teacher every year, along with English or something of the sort.  They were like his children.  He had known them long enough. Helga collapsed in the desk that had once been hers with a sigh.  She folded her arms and rested her head on the desk with them.

"Excuse me, Miss." A voice explained.  "You're not supposed to be here."

She stirred from her half-sleep and tried to attach a face to the voice calling her.  It wasn't Wartz.  She knew that.  It wasn't any of her classmates.  Perhaps a new teacher or the janitor.  She lifted her head and immediately recognized this person before her.  "Mr. Simmons?!" She asked with a shock.

"Helga?!" He stated in the same manner.  

"What are you doing here?" She asked.  "I mean, it's great to see you!"

"Visitor pass.  What's your excuse?" He replied.

She smiled.  "My legs brought me here.  The door was open.  What actually brings you here?" She asked.

He looked to her.  "Homesick I guess."

"You still live in Hillwood, don't you?" Helga questioned.

"Of course.  I just… you should know that you were my favorite class.  Once your class left, so did I.  It was the end of an era for me… it seemed like the end of the world.  I see most of you from time to time… but you're all grown up.  I still see you as my first 4th grade class.  I know I taught you until senior year, but…"

Helga looked uncomprehending.

"When you have children and they grow up, parents always see their kid's as three year olds.  Cute, innocent, sweet. That's how I still see all of you." He explained.

"I know what you mean.  You miss a second and it feels like forever." She tried.

"And sometimes, it feels like everything's the same." Mr. Simmons added.

Helga smiled, glad she wasn't alone in the universe.  "That's what I've been thinking."

"Forgive me if this is too personal, Helga." He began.

She already had a hint of what he was going to ask.

"How are things with Arnold?"

"It's funny…" She began.  "When I came back, I thought that this would go one, two, three.  I would get here, he'd give me a divorce, and I'd be on my merry way.  Obviously that didn't happen."

He nodded for her to continue with her narrative.

"Part of me knew, though.  It knew that things would go that way.  We ended up screaming at each other.  Before I knew it, I was crying in an alley and who else should come to my rescue but Arnold.  Since then, we've been talking… and I don't know anymore.  He just makes me feel so… special… not your overused version of the word, but like I mean something and I have a place.  Do you have any idea of what I mean?"

Mr. Simmons smiled.  "I guess I did use the word 'special' a little too often."

"No kidding.  It was in your graduation speech." She reminded.

"Good point." He answered.  Following a moment of unanticipated silence, Mr. Simmons spoke up again.  "You stopped writing, didn't you?"

"Yeah…" She sighed shamefully.

"You know, I looked for your name on the new author list every week.  You had amazing potential… you probably still do." He confessed.

"When I left, I vowed to leave everything I was behind.  I guess I thought that it would help me forget… but it left this gaping hole in me.  Like something was begging to be let out, and since I've come back here… its changed." She explained.  "Think you could tell me what it all adds up to?"

"Helga, you were always more astute than I was, or ever will be."

"You're the grown up." She replied.

Simmons laughed.  "Not anymore."

"I know… but you're still older." She grumbled.

"You could look at an Edward Hopper picture and figure out what he was trying to say in 4th grade.  I still can't." He said.

"But this isn't Edward Hopper, this is my life!  I'm so confused and I could never figure anything in my own life out!  The only thing I've ever been sure of was that I love Arnold!" She ranted.

He nodded for her to keep talking.  She would eventually speak whatever she was really feeling if she kept it up.  She was pacing the floor, just as she customarily did when she was nervous or worried.

"And I know that I want to be with him, but something is holding me back because I don't wanna get hurt again- I don't think I could take getting hurt again.  I believed Rhonda when she told me what he did, but now the more I see him the more I can't believe her- and that's what makes it harder.  Who else could inspire me to write half a notebook full of poems until three in the morning?  Only Arnold. Another mistake I made: last night, we ended up in the tunnel of love together and I kissed him- or he kissed me- or we kissed each other!  We haven't spoken since and its driving me crazy!  Why can't just admit to myself that I love him and want him back?! Everything is so-" She froze.  Was that it?

"I think you answered your question." Mr. Simmons replied with a smile.

"Yeah…" She replied, a hint of blush on her cheeks.  "I guess I did.  How did you know that would happen?"

He chuckled slightly.  "Years and years of knowing you.  You think about things so deeply, which isn't a bad thing, but sometimes you miss what's right in front of you." He offered.

"Thanks, Granola Boy." She joked.

He laughed.  "Did you hear about Curly?"

"Yeah.  Scary thought, isn't it?"

"One that has caused many sleepless nights." He affirmed.  "If I'm correct, you have someone to visit."

She smiled and hugged her old teacher.  "All jokes aside, you were the best teacher I've ever had."

"One of the only." He reminded.

"That's not the point!" She said.  "Bye Mr. Simmons."

"So long, Helga." He replied with a wave. He sighed to the empty room and held the worn visitor pass in his hands.  It was worthless now, having expired long ago, but it was enough for him to fool the janitors into allowing him access to the building and the memories that it contained.  PS118 had been is home… but every bird must leave the nest eventually.  They had to survive on their own and continue the cycle of life.  That's all life was… there was no big secret to it.  No matter how amazing a hero you became, the truth was that you were born, and one day you would die.  Still, every bird needed a nest to call home.  The graying teacher sighed again.  He could almost see his class sitting in their chairs, not paying attention to the lesson he was giving.  He watched as the blond girl known as the class bully shot a spitball at the football-headed blond boy sitting in front of her.  No matter how much she wanted to kill that part of her, she could not.  It was too strong to be forgotten.  He had a sinking suspicion that she liked Arnold beneath the bully façade, but would never testify that it was true.  Her poems and creative writing assignments had given it away.  She never mentioned his name… but he was smart enough to piece two and two together, even if Arnold wasn't.  Things had changed since then, but home for Helga would always be Arnold.  No matter what happened, nothing could change that, and today had proved it.  With another sigh, he shut the door to his old home and silently left the grounds of PS118, mentally praying that things would work out for Helga.  Maybe things could still be saved.  Maybe there was hope for her to be happy again.  He prayed there was.  After all, he decided, there was always hope.

He had read the contents of the manila envelope over and over at least a thousand times, not be exaggerated.  His head was splitting, stabbing pain shooting from his throbbing temples all the way to the back of his brain.  This was probably the most difficult thing he had faced in his life. He loved Helga. But he wanted her to be happy.  The question was if he could give her that happiness.  When he had proposed, he was certain he could offer that happiness, but now it seemed so far away.  In the city she had status, money and a Mercedes.  Here she had an unfinished manuscript, Victorian-style country house and grandpa's Packard.  At one time, that was all she needed.  Now things were different.  Her dresses cost nearly as much as the Packard.  What did he have to offer her, anyway?  This new fiancée of hers had money, status and a Mercedes to match her own.  Did she really want to be known as the fashion flop who gave up millions of dollars to live as an urban city girl with a football headed simpleton?  Arnold sighed.  He needed some Advil.  Badly.

Before leaving for Phoebe's house, Helga stopped home.  She had a half hour to kill and figured that there had to be something she could do.  The red light of the answering machine blinked, denoting there was a message.  She pressed the playback button.  Two hang-ups.  Then Arnold's voice.

"Helga… I need to talk to you.  If you could come by at eight or eight thirty that would be great.  It's important.  Thanks.  Bye."

He sounded oddly distressed.  Maybe he was still distraught over the happenings of last night.  At least she had an excuse to come by tonight.  She hoped that Phoebe would set her mind right… she always did.  After deleting a message from a telemarketer, Helga headed out.  She would walk for a while and show up five minutes or so early.  

There came loud knocking at the Johansson residence.  Gerald insisted that he get the door for Phoebe, because she was carrying their baby.  Her protests were worthless because by the time she stood he had already answered the door.

"Hey Helga." Gerald greeted.

"Hey Hair Boy." She replied teasingly.

"Aren't we a little old for this?" He replied.

"Ouch Gerald.  That almost hurt."

He laughed and welcomed her into their home.  "Pheebs is the family room.  She told me you were coming."

Helga found Phoebe sitting exactly where Gerald had explained.  She pulled up a chair to face her friend.

"What did you need to talk to me about?" She asked.

"It's Arnold…" Helga began.  "I love him."

Phoebe's eyes widened in unbelieving shock.  "I though you came to divorce him!"

"I did… but we started hanging out and we kissed last night… and I realized that I love him." She replied in a jumbled sentence.

"What are you gonna do?" Phoebe asked.

"That's why I came here…" She confessed.

"Helga, why did you leave Arnold in the first place?" Phoebe questioned.

"You mean you don't know?" Helga replied.

"No.  Just that you up and left.  Rhonda said that she was glad for you, but never said why.  You never called anyone.  You just disappeared."

Helga sighed, knowing that reliving that would probably break her.  "All of a sudden, we started drifting apart.  He started working ridiculously late hours for no reason.  He started getting cold… like he didn't want me anymore.  Every time I tried to talk to him, he but didn't answer, like he was preoccupied. And then Rhonda told me that she had seen him with another woman."

Phoebe nodded for her friend to continue.

"At first I didn't believe it… but every time I was with him, it only made more sense.  And then… I came home from work one day…" Helga's eyes brimmed with tears.  "And some girl was waiting outside the house.  I asked why she was there and he told me that Arnold had said for him to meet her there because the house would be empty.  When I heard that… I flew off the handle I guess.  I scared the girl off my property and threw my things together." Tears were flowing freely down her face now, however she made no sound.

Phoebe starred at her best friend with shock and disbelief.  "Helga… I don't blame you for leaving… but it just doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't?"

"Arnold was so completely torn when you left… he locked himself in your room for days.  He didn't sleep, didn't eat… he looked horrible.  He was so depressed… like a ghost of himself.  Do you think maybe it was all just a misunderstanding?"

"Part of me does.  I want to believe that so much…" She replied.

Phoebe was struck with a revelation.  "Helga… was it possible that Arnold was tutoring at the time?"

"He might have mentioned it…" Helga replied.

"Maybe that girl was a senior in one of his classes… maybe he was tutoring to earn some extra money on the side." Phoebe explained.

"Then who was the woman Rhonda saw him with?" Helga asked, almost pleading for Phoebe to prove her conclusion wrong.

"Maybe it was the Hillwood High principal.  Maybe he took her to lunch to request permission to tutor the kids outside the school." She suggested.

Helga stopped crying.  Maybe this did fit after all.  "Maybe…"

"You should confront him." Phoebe said.

"I'm going to see him tonight.  I'll tell him then… everything." Helga replied.

Phoebe smiled. "Good luck."

"Thanks Pheebs."

"What are best friends for?" She asked with a smile, embracing her friend.  Helga hugged her back, thankful that she had been blessed with a friend like Phoebe.  The petite Japanese woman escorted Helga to the door, wishing her the best of luck.  Luck she wouldn't need… maybe courage, but not luck. Phoebe smiled as she watched the blond figure disappear down the street.

"Do you think what she said about Arnold was… true?" Her husband's voice asked as he stood beside her.

She sighed.  "All the evidence points to yes."

Gerald looked to her sadly.  "I can't believe Arnold… of all people…"

"I don't." she replied simply.

"Wait.  You just said you did." He retorted.

"I said all the evidence pointed to yes.  I never stated whether or not I believed it was the right conclusion." She explained.

"I don't know…" Gerald sighed doubtfully.

"Gerald, do you remember the time Curly framed Eugene for pulling the fire alarm?" She asked.

"Sure.  Can you believe he has his own country?"

"That's not my point, Gerald." She said sternly.  "All the evidence pointed to Eugene, but Curly was the one who did it."

"So you think Arnold was framed?" He asked.

Phoebe slapped her forehead.  "Gerald Martin Johansson…"

"You mean he was wrongfully accused." He replied, struck with a revelation.

"Bingo." She replied.

Gerald wrapped his arms protectively around his wife.  She smiled at this, relaxing in the comfort of his embrace.  "Think they still have a chance?" He asked.

She cocked her head to achieve eye contact with the man who held her heart.  "Anything's possible." With that, she kissed him.

**A/N:** What will she tell Arnold?  What does Arnold have to tell her?  How did Curly get his own country?  Stay tuned for the answers!


	10. Amends

**A/N:** A few things: I put a disclaimer on this in the first few chapters, so I'm not plagiarizing.  Second, I appreciate your input, Sarah.  I like to be original, this is the first time I've attempted something that parallels an unoriginal idea so I gave it a shot.  Thanks to all who reviewed.  There will be one more short chapter, as I left this one without a formal conclusion.  I wanted to tie everything up in one place and doing so would take away from this chapter.  ENJOY!

**Sweet Home, Hillwood**

By: ChickenGoddess

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**Chapter 8:**

**Amends**

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Helga had been standing outside his door for a half hour now, pacing back and forth the length of the porch as she contemplated what she would say.  First she would need the confidence to make her hand knock, and as of now, it wasn't going anywhere.  He had called her, right?  So why should she be nervous?  He obviously had something important to tell her… and- she needed to breathe.  Analyze the situation logically, and then things would fall into place. This was Arnold.  He hadn't cheated on her after all (and save her ridiculous weight of guilt) she was happy.  Happy because she could make things right.  This was Arnold, who had helped solve so many people's problems over the years.  This was Arnold, who had stolen her heart at first sight.  Most importantly, this was Arnold, who no matter what offered her warmth and comfort.  Confidence renewed, she knocked on the door.  Momentarily, it swung open.

"Hey Arnold."

"Come in, Helga." He said.  There was something different about him tonight.  Something he was hiding from her.  She didn't know exactly what it was, but she was determined to get it out of him. "Sit down." He instructed as he pulled a chair out from the kitchen table.

She took the seat appreciatively.  He sat across from her and began to speak.  As he did so, his emotions became clear as crystal, as if they were screaming at her.  His eyes gave him away.  "I know you're probably wondering why I asked you to come by… but after last night I've been doing some thinking.  I… I want you to be happy.  That's all I care about.  And if I can't be the one to make you happy, then I want to see you with someone who does.  You deserve so much better than to live in a place where you have to stifle your creativity."

She didn't understand what he was saying, but she could decipher the message in his eyes nonetheless.  They screamed, "This is killing me… but I love you." 

"Arnold, I came here for a reason tonight." She interrupted.

He had not expected her interjection and froze mid-sentence, allowing her to continue.

"I came to tell you why I left." She sighed.  "I left because I was convinced that you were sleeping around."

His face paled with shock.  "What?"

"You got aloof with me, worked late hours, Rhonda told me she saw you in town with another woman.  The nail in the coffin was when some girl showed up at the house and told me that you had said for her to meet you there, because I wouldn't be home.  It killed me.  So I packed my things and went as far as my paycheck could get me.  I never even questioned it until now.  All the pieces fit together that way."

"Helga… I had no idea, but I never-"

"I'm not finished yet." She interrupted.  She had to finish before she lost her nerve.  "Then I came back because I wanted a divorce.  I thought I hated Hillwood, and I thought I hated you… but the more time I spent here, the more I realized that things weren't as bad as they seemed.  There were even things I… missed.  I thought I was happy in the city… money, flashy cars, and my own company.  But then I came here… and I realized that I had become everything I hated.  I had tried to kill the real me, but it wouldn't die.  That part of me was too stubborn.  Last night I realized that I don't need a fancy car or clothes or loads of cash… I need what makes me happy…what makes me warm.  I realized that all I need is you."

Arnold stared, his numb brain processing the words she had just spoken.  Never in a million years would he have expected this.

"I love it here.  And I love you, Arnold.  That's all I had to say." She replied, avoiding eye contact at all cost.

"Wow." Was the only word he could find.  "Wow."

"I'd better be going…" She said, getting to her feet and leaving the room, the only audible sound what that of her sneakers scuffing against the tiled floor as she walked.  Sighing in dismay, she turned the doorknob.  Suddenly, a larger hand closed over hers and turned the knob in the opposite direction.  She turned to see Arnold standing behind her.  Slowly, she let go of the knob.

"I let you go once… I'm not about to do it again." He said.  "I used to think that if I ever saw you again I would tell you how much I hated you for putting me through years of loneliness.  I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me…"

Helga was looking away.  There were tears in her eyes of both regret and shame.  He saw this and turned her face to achieve eye contact. "But I see that you've been hurt enough." He finished.

"No I haven't…" She managed, calling to mind the image of her broken husband picking up each piece of separate clothing from the floor and folding it as he sobbed.  "Not nearly enough." Tears were streaming unheeded down her porcelain face.

"Helga, we can't go back and change the past.  All we can do is learn from it." He coaxed.

'Typical Arnold.' she thought.

"I love you, Helga.  I promised you that a long time ago, and I'm a man of my word.  I'm not about to let you walk out because you feel guilty over a misunderstanding.  It's my fault for not telling you that I was doing extra work.  If I had seen you in the same light, I would have thought the same thing." He explained.

"But I-"

"No 'buts', Helga.  Stop blaming yourself." He interjected sternly.  His expression softened as he held her face and wiped her tears with is thumb. She sighed softly at his touch.  "I love you." He affirmed.

"I love you too, Arnold.  So much…" She replied.

"Shh.…" He said, posing a finger to her lips before replacing it with his mouth.  Helga kissed him hard, pure need pulsing through her veins.  She hadn't felt this way in years… his strong arms gripping her waist for dear life, as if nothing could pry them apart.  The kiss did end, and without words a smiling Arnold carried his laughing Helga upstairs upon her command.  He playfully tossed her on the bed and she beckoned him to follow.  He did as was told and resumed their hungry kisses as she stretched out beneath him.  Her hands wandered under his shirt and caressed his bare skin with her fingertips before she removed it from him totally.

"I need you." She whispered once their lips had parted.

"I guess now's not a good time to tell you I signed the papers…" he replied.

She laughed. "I didn't."

"Good point." He said with a smile.  "When you were in the city… did you ever… you know…"

"No, Arnold I did not sleep with anybody." She answered.  "Now stop talking."

"Yes, ma'am." He replied as he kissed her.

The rest of the night was lost to passion and the following morning dissolved into a blissful oblivion until a repetitive knocking came at the front door.

"No… it can wait…" Helga protested as Arnold sat up and stepped out of bed.

"It could be important." He replied, lazily slipping on a t-shirt and some boxers.

"You pick the mail over me?" She retorted.

"You know I pick you." He replied, kissing her.

The knocking persisted.

"Damnit." He cursed.

"Fine." She sighed in agreement.  "I'll be waiting."

He flashed her a smile as he started down the stairs and opened the door, fully prepared to let whoever it was have a piece of his mind. The door swung open.

"Grandpa?!"

"Hey Arnold!  What's the matter?  Why are ya still in your pajamas?" Phil asked.

"What are you doing here so early?" He asked.

"It's the middle of the evening and the fuse box at the boarding house blew… and yer grandma made chili for dinner."

"Now's not exactly the best time…" he said, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

"Don't be silly, honey.  Of course he can stay." A fully clothed Helga replied as she descended the stairs.

"Who's that?" Phil asked.

"Your granddaughter-in-law?" She replied.

"You came back?!" He asked.

"Of course I came back.  Now come in and sit down." She said.

**A/N:** Next chapter will be the last… and you WILL find out how Curly got his own county.  Until then, 

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	11. Loose Ends Are Tied

**A/N:** Here it is… the last installment of Sweet Home Hillwood.  Yes, you do find out how Curly got his own country!  Why are you still listening to me?  Read te story!  lol

**Sweet Home, Hillwood**

By: ChickenGoddess

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**Chapter 9:**

**Loose Ends Are Tied**

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Gerald Field was occupied not by elementary school baseball players, by rows of guests present for the renewal of vows ceremony taking place momentarily.  The music began and Helga walked down the aisle, escorted by Big Bob who grumbled about it the whole way down.  She sighed to herself with a smile, noting that some things never change.  Miriam, however, was already crying.  She hadn't been the least bit sober the first time her daughter married, but she was clean for this.

"We are gathered here today to renew the vows made at marriage-"

The pastor's voice was cut off by the humming sound of a helicopter, landing in the middle of the street.  The propellers finally stopped spinning and out stepped a tall man, clad in a back tuxedo.  He had ditched the glasses long ago, but the bowl cut hairdo still remained.  This was none other than Thaddeus P. Gammelthorpe, formerly known to Hillwood as the notorious "Curly".

"I was hoping for a discreet entrance… forgive me, friends." He announced.

"I guess he got the invitation…" Helga whispered to her husband.

"You made it!" Arnold shouted.

"Of course!  I would not miss this event for the world!" Curly replied, taking a seat.

The pastor again began to speak, this time completing the ceremony.  The reception was held in the PS118 gymnasium.  

"So Curly… how've you been?" Helga asked.

"Well, and yourself?" He replied.

"It took me a while… but I'm finally happy." She said, gazing through the crowd of people at Arnold's laughing face.

"Ah.  So quickly we loose sight of what really makes us happy." Curly agreed.

"I hope you don't mind my asking… but how did you get your own country?"

He laughed. "Well, after showing the people the benefits and wonders of dry cleaning, I led the rebellion against the leader and took the throne, making it like one big dry cleaning service. We also manufacture toaster ovens." Curly explained.

"Oh.  That's interesting.  You certainly have done well for yourself." She said.

"That I have." He agreed.

"So… is there a Mrs. Thaddeus Gammelthorpe?" She asked.

"Several."

Helga's jaw dropped.

"Just kidding.  No, I've not embarked on the journey of marriage yet." He replied.

Helga sighed in relief.  "Good luck.  It was great seeing you again." She said, leaving to go mingle.

Curly sighed as he approached his helicopter.  What was that saying? The past comes back to haunt you.  That was it.  How true it was.  How very true.

"Hey… I thought you'd never get here." Rhonda Wellington Lloyd Berman said, making her presence known.

"Hello Rhonda." He replied.

"I would have talked to you before… I guess with Harold around I didn't have the guts."

"No matter.  You're here now. Speak your peace." He said.

"I came to say… I wanted to tell you… I…" she stopped to gather herself.  "I'm sorry things didn't work out for us.  I'm sorry I'm not the girl for you."

"As am I.  But we can't live on dreams alone, can we?" He replied.

"No, we can't." She offered.  "I was happy with you… but somehow I knew it wasn't right.  I love Harold.  I know I do.  We have a beautiful baby and I'm pregnant again.  Part of me can't let go of you… this is gonna sound crazy, but I can never really be happy until I let go.  I can't be a faithful wife with another man in my heart." She explained.

"I understand." He replied.

"This is so hard…why does it have to be like this?  Why can't I just love you?" She asked, a lone tear escaping her eye.

"Spill no tears over me, darling.  Our time has passed.  It was amazing while it lasted, but it wasn't meant to be.  Besides, you really want 'Curly the kid who locked himself in Wartz's office' to be your husband?  I'm happy in my country.  I get to ride a giraffe in my backyard.  I'm content.  You should be too.  Harold loves you, just be happy." Curly said.

"That's all I wanted to say." Rhonda replied.

"Goodbye, Rhonda.  I have to get back to my people!  But before I do, I must run amok the streets in loincloth and steal the elephants from the circus!" He declared, running manically into his helicopter and darting out with his trademark glasses dressed in loincloth.

Rhonda sighed.  Why did she date him again? ….

The ring Helga wore on her finger was not an exaggerated rock but the simple, unique diamond she had worn years before.  She sold her penthouse and donated her wardrobe to charity.  She'd broken up with Kevin over the phone and sent him the ring back… she didn't need it.  Stepping back into the life she had lived was so easy and comfortable; it felt like she hadn't left it at all.  Phoebe was due in a short time… so was she.  Everything had come together, everything except for one loose end she needed to tie up.

**Lost and Found******

_This extraordinary novel by the amazing new author, Helga Pataki has turned into an overnight best seller.  What was left an unfinished manuscript of three years was picked up and refurbished at the abrupt conclusion of her fashion career.  Pataki writes with raw emotion and pure honesty.  Put those together with her excellent storytelling ability and you have a fiction that's worth the read.  What the NY Times calls a literary gem and a masterpiece of classic proportions.  Later this year we are expecting an anthology of poems from her childhood years._

Mr. Simmons sighed as he placed his copy of the Bi-Weekly Bugle on his magazine rack.  It had taken her years, but she'd finally done it.  Her first try was a Best Seller.  All the poems he had read the class she had signed anonymous were going to be bound and published. 

"I'm so proud of you, Helga." He said to the empty room.  "I'm so proud."

A/N: Well, that's it.  Hope you liked it!  Thanks for the reviews, you've all been so helpful.  I appreciate it!****


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